Don't count your Beer before you Drink it
by Ghost Writer no. 3
Summary: Belated Saint Patty's fic. Second chapter! First it was the Twilight Gang and The Disciplinary Committee, now we trade it up for Namine!
1. The enemy of my enemy

Saint Patrick's Day has past, but I'm sure it is fresh in some people's mind. Or not fresh, mattering on how much you had that night. But I posted near March, so it still counts as far as I am concerned. I had this idea shuffling around. And I wanted to do it and its different then the love crap I have been working on. This is a humor story, but it is also based on the apparent decision that this holiday of leprechauns and green beer is being called another type of Holiday that is less then appropriate. Coincidently, this also deals with racism. I doubt any of the readers on Kingdom Hearts are like this, but think of it me bring an attention to a problem.

Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts

* * *

The "Irish Nacho" was a well-known pub. True, the name would through some people off, but there are several stories behind it. One was the original owner, as a token to his fiancée, asked her to pick the name. Another story said it used to be a breakfast house and when it changed into a bar, nobody liked the new name, so it went back to the original. Another one was at its creation, it was the first food item ever served in the establishment. It became so well known for the food item it served, everyone simply called it that. Or some speculated those two words were drawn out of a hat. Either way, the "Irish Nacho" had been around for years. It was not a big pub, but it had an 'ethic' feel and the business was steady, especially on that certain Irish day of the year.

Three friends walked down the street. One was a stout fellow situated on the left. He had black hair held up in a green headband, soft-brown eyes, a sleeveless shirt (red with designs) with a white shirt underneath it, blue and saggy pants, slip-on sneakers, and a green bandana wrapped around his neck.

In the middle was a longhaired and petite brunette with lovely green eyes, a long tang-top colored in orange and white flowers decorating down one side, with a necklace around her neck and bracelet made of light-blue beads. She also wore Capri khakis, but below them were high-orange socks and yellow-and-white sneakers. Added features to her this year were green ribbons and clips in her hair.

The final boy at the end was a thin boy with blond hair cut short and had a crinkly quality to it, dark-brown eyes, slight muscular frame under a faded-green jean vest, a black top with no sleeves and a few white drawings down its length. It was completed with cameo guy-shorts and matching shoes.

They were heading for said pub.

Hayner was grinning from ear to ear. "Aw, this is gonna be a great night, guys. Just me and my buddies. And lots of booze."

"Weren't Roxas and Naminè suppose to come?" Pence asked, checking his camera strap.

"Oh," Olette put a finger under her chin, "Naminé , I think, stayed home to watch her house while her parents went out. She said also in case if anyone didn't want to pay for a taxi, she would offer rides." Olette then shrugged, "Besides, you know she doesn't drink much. Or like crowds."

"Yah, and Roxas called earlier today, say something about going with Axel somewhere." Hayner paused in his step, thinking about the conversation, "Then he talked about a gang and then mentioned something about a floor two. I think he was already drunk at the time." Hayner nodded, convinced about his memory. Then his smirked and bent his legs and exclaimed. "Ah well, more booze for us!" He then started to have a skip in his step

"Well, more booze for you and Pence." Olette commented, giggling a little at the excitement. "All I want is my unlimited potato dishes." She then rubbed her belly. "Mmmm…potato pie, French fries, potato wedges, hash browns, farmer's omelets, mash potatoes." She then gasped. "Oooooh, potato cheese rolls!"

"Don't forget the corn beef and cabbage." Pence added with his own smile.

Her face brightened even more, "Oh yah!"

"It's happy drunk day, and all you can think about is food?!" Hayner said with disbelief.

Olette chuckled, "It's not just about booze. It's about wearing green, and being Irish, and…leprechauns!"

"Actually." Pence started, which was a signal he was going to say something smart, "It was to celebrate the victory of the patron Saint of Ireland, Saint Patrick. He brought Christianity to Ireland. There's also a popular legend that he-"

"Enough with the stories, Pence!" Hayner said patting his companion's back. "It is time to enjoy the rest of our lives!" Pence shook his head. Olette laughed and rubbed his shoulders.

Therefore, the trio of friends entered the "Irish Nacho."

As always, it was a darkened place with a few lights hear and there. The structure was wood and sound, with a large bar and a kitchen in the corner. Some added color came from the various streamers and other green items around, including several real shamrocks. Already a crowed gathered, all full of cheer, all full of joy, all for of whiskey.

Hayner was in heaven.

Olette looked around. "Oh look! There is a still a booth free!" She pointed to a little corner seat near the bathroom. It was a bit small and had a few wholes and cigarette burns in it, but there was only the three of them, so it looked nice.

Besides, if Olette wanted a booth, then she would get a booth.

"Alright, fellows, you two claim it before more people show up. I'll get our drinks!" Hayner said, just pausing for a second to make sure both his friends were seated before he turned around and went to the counter.

"Don't forget the corn-beef and cabbage!" Pence shouted.

"And the first rounds of potato and cheese wedges." Olette also shouted. Hayner did not turn around, but waved his friends backwards, chuckling about the waste of money going to the food.

Many people gathered around the bar, but it was not crowed yet and people were willing to move out of the way for others. After all, most people were very friend tonight and they wanted to hurry back to their friends. There were a few waitresses around, but most were busy serving other people and Hayner did not wish to wait. Pence and Olette could order their food that way. He would need his hands for the drinks.

Hayner found a spot between two stools, and called to one of the bartender while digging into his pocket, "Hey barkeep. Give me the cheapest green beer you got." The said man turned around and already appeared to be carrying several pitchers already. He shocked Hayner: Not about the beer, but about who the man at the counter was. It was a familiar Struggle champion…only he had on a green apron that said, 'Kiss me, I'm Irish! "Setzer?" Hayner blinked his eyes, wondering if maybe he had something else to drink that he did not realize he drunk. Nope, that was him. "What are you doing here?"

"Well child," The man begin, already filling up another pitcher of alcohol, "That is a very good question which would lead to a very long story, but let's say that never have a bookie who's sister runs a bar who also wants to go on her second honey moon and wanted to get some free labor." He set down some more pitchers, and then said as an after thought. "In fact, just don't…owe a bookie."

"Riiiight." Hayner laughed at him, then counted his money. "Here's a little tip for you."

"Rotten kid." The man mumbled, but he still smiled. Hayner grabbed his pitcher and headed to his friends.

Eventually, they all got their food (with Hayner picking off Olette's finger food), and everyone was enjoying themselves.

More and more people piled it, but there was enough room and some people started to leave to head to parties or other drinking establishments. Hayner noticed their pitcher was getting a bit on the low side, so he headed back to the bar to get some more. Unfortunately, he noticed a familiar beanie on a stool.

"You!" Hayner called, standing right behind the Leader of the Twilight Town Disciplinary Committee, "What are you doing here?!"

Seifer turned around, causing the rest of his posse to look behind with various scowls. Well, except Vivi: No one could tell what his expression was. "Oh look, it a chicken-wuss." Seifer looked around. "Where are you little hens?" Rai chuckled next to him.

"What are you doing here?!" He asked again, a little louder this time.

"It's a free country, yah?" Rai said, taking a long swig from a bottle. "This is one of the few times of the year that we get a break, y'now?"

"Another." Fuu called.

Seifer took a big swig of his drink, then looked over at Hayner. "Now, don't start any trouble, loser. Even though it is a night for celebrating, be a bit responsible. See how we set an example?"

Hayner had been growing angrier and angrier at the way Seifer was lecturing _him _as if he was some sort of child. He was so mad! Like he wasn't responsible and he was supposed to look at _Seifer_, of all people, as a role model?!

Hayner made his fist, slammed it down right in front of Seifer, and was about ready to start something, but Setzer leaned over the in front of them, slamming impressively his own palm and glared at both boys. "If either of you cause any problems, I will certainly throw you and your lot out on the curb."

"That ain't nice!" Rai said, looking beyond shocked. "We didn't start nothing.'"

"Don't care." Setzer looked at Hayner and Seifer again. "Don't."

"No offense, Mr. Setzer," Hayner said, bringing his arms together and crossing them over his chest. "But Roxas beat you at the last struggling match."

Seifer laughed a bit and added, "And I think I beat you plenty of times, old fart.

Setzer tight lips turned into a smile, but the glared still stayed in his eyes. "First off, that was Struggle. Sturggle is my hobby, not my sport. Second, if first point mattered, I have yet to see the two of you pound the one called Roxas into the ground. Now Hayner, when you come close to doing such a thing, we can discuss it." Seifer started to chuckle a bit, but stopped when Setzer gave him the same twisted smile. "As for you, Seifer, I seemed to recall an incident where I invited you to tag along for a poker-game and you were caught cheating. Remember that little fiasco? Remember what I did to you? Without any sort of blue bat?" That appeared to tear down Seifer a few pegs. "Now, if either of you or your posse's cause problems with one another…well, let me show you what I will do." He reached under the table and put a lemon on the counter. "This is a lemon. It is sour and in a bar setting is commonly use for shot drinking." He then pulled a card from a side and set it on the table next to it. "This is a card. In a bar setting, it is used to play a game with." He put his hands in front of each item. "The thing they have in common is pain. I can…" He twirled his hand around the card and showed it off. "Cause some little pain with this in the form of a little paper-cut. I take then lemon…" He almost appeared to lazily flick his wrist, tossing the card into the fruit. Of course, the impact was anything but lazy, as it appeared the card slide into the lemon, then a few centimeters into the table. "And dip it into the cut." He picked the card up and wiped it on his apron. "Now, imagine that, but only one-hundred times worst. As in, one-hundred cards and a bucket of lemonade. Understand?" Both boys remained silent, but scowled to themselves before each nodding just so slightly. Setzer stood back up. "There we go. Now, you guys behave."

Hayner tried to get an upper hand and pointed down the stool. "But Vivi is a minor!"

Setzer nodded, "And if he asked for alcohol, I won't give him any."

Hayner's jaw dropped, "But he's still a minor!"

"Forget about it, tattle-tale." Seifer supplied. "We brought him so he can see, but not touch."

"Designated driver." Fuu commented, sipping her drink.

"Yah, incase we have a little too much." Rai commented with a smile, taking a large gulp.

Hayner turned to look at Setzer in the eye. "Are you going to let them get away with this?

"Of course I will." Setzer announced. "They are being safe. So I'll let it side, until they slip some to the boy wonder down there. Besides," Setzer turned around to get some more beverages ready, but the grin was clear in his voice "Nobody likes a tattle tale."

Hayner was rather peeved. Seifer won this round. He hated that Seifer won because the bastard knew he won. He wanted to start some more stuff, but Setzer set down another pitcher. With the call of his friends back in the booth, Hayner sighed and grabbed the pitcher, setting down the money.

Eventually, Olette and Pence got Hayner out of the rut and soon the two groups more or less stayed away from one another. More people piled in and everyone had a little party and quite cheerful

For the Disciplinary Committee, Seifer and mostly Rai stayed by the bar, usually hassling Vivi about something, a few times convincing him to pursue some girl or another. Fuu stayed on her stool, but soon grabbed a free pool table and started a few. Rai went against her and paired with her on occasion, but usually came back to the counter quickly. Rai was not a good player.

For the three in the booth, it was mostly friends chatting and eating and drinking, with Olette occasionally taking turns with dancing with her friends. Pence and Hayner were not keen about it first, but it was not as if she was clinging nor was Olette was a great dancer, so it was okay for them not to be so good, too. Olette also danced with a few fellows who wanted to dance with the brunette. The two boys did not mind, but with silence nods of the head between them decided (a shakes 'yes' between them meant he was suitable enough, a shake no meant 'he' wasn't good enough for her) if they were going to let her go. They only had once forcefully removed a man from Colette since he did not understand when to keep his hands to himself and that Olette was a lady and did not appreciate where his hands should stay.

But other then that little moment, good times.

Over the next couple of hours, other people filled out to head to more parties, but about an equal number of people entered to replace the loss. The later groups included several men who seemed to favor the cube-ball look.

One of these men started to play pool with Fuu. She won, but the man challenged her again. They had another round, with Fuu still coming on top. He apparently did not like this and started to demand his money back. Fuu calmly (and slowly) explained that his skills were simply not on par with hers (read: she said "tough").

This certainly did not please the man and did not please his big, ugly friend. The big, ugly friend came to help grab the money back by force. However, the big, ugly friend though Fuu could keep the money and repay in another way.

When the game started, Seifer and Rai watched Seifer with amusement and Rai with boredom. When the big, ugly friend approached, they watching a little more carefully. When the big, ugly friend made the indecent proposal, that dearly offended them. Seifer nodded and Rai got up.

The first one to make a move with the loser: He made a grab for Fuu.

In a flash, he was on the ground, the shimmering-haired woman holding his hand behind his back, on the verge of breaking it. The big, ugly friend looked with shock, but then he made a grab for her.

Her free foot connected with his head.

Some people were watching the fight: Those who knew Fuu watched with delight (which include Hayner, Pence, and Olette), those who knew the two other men with disbelief, and everyone else was just watching, wondering how it would play out. A few strangers at the bar looked at Setzer, wondering if he was going to do anything. The man, not looking up from the drink he was making, replied with almost a chuckle, "As far as I saw, the lady was defending herself. If a girl defense herself from rough-raff, then she can."

Only when about three other men came around to assist with their friends did the rest of the Disciplinary Committee decided to intervene. Rai looked back a Seifer with a silence question, who nodded, but kept his gaze to the pool table and his back against the bar.

Rai kept his chest out, making sure he looked a lot bigger then any of the men as he approached. Fuu already stood prepared for any more grabs coming her way. Rai knocked a fist onto the pool table, shaking some balls up into the hair and jarred some of the men. The men turned to look at him, and Fuu let her guard down, but kept her one visible eye to see how the events unfolded. Rai called out to them, wondering was going on with his friend. They told him to mind his own business. Rai said that this was his business and they should stay out of that. A thin and skinny fellow, who still had a tuff of hair on the top of his hair, asked if Fuu was his girl. Rai looked a bit surprised at the allegation, but Fuu called out a quiet "No." She picked up a pool stick, still watching. One of the drunker hoodlums glared at Rai, mumbling something. Rai did not hear him, so asked what he said.

The drunk reaped, with a practical scream.

It silenced the whole bar.

There were several gasp as everyone looked to the pool section. Even Fuu wore a look of shock, which was very un-Fuu like.

The man's line first started out with 'Damn', then an F-bomb, and the dubbed "N" word.

Fuu was the first one to move. She stood in front of a still shocked Rai and said loudly, "What?" Then she charged after the drunk with her pool stick.

Rai caught her, trying to calm her down with shouts of, "No, Fuu! It'ain't worth it! Don't stab through the eye like last time! We got fined! We got fined!" She kept kicking her feet in the air, ready for the kill.

Then Seifer and Vivi got up. Seifer wore a serious expression will Vivi…followed. "Hey," Seifer came up, all billy-badass like. He placed a hand on his hip for effect. "You causing probably for my friends?" The one who approached him was bigger, older, and look to be able to bench Seifer if he chose to. Seifer took it all without any trouble. "Well?" Seifer asked. By this point, Fuu stopped thrashing around, but Rai kept a firm grip on her; she refused to let go of that stick.

"We ain't doin' nothing. The…_fellow_ over there came after us." It was clear that the broad man thought up about fifteen other words before he choose 'fellow.'

Seifer glared deadly at his opponent, "Because you came after Fuu. It isn't her fault your friends play like five-year olds."

"We weren't gonna do anything to his girlfriend."

"That ain't his girlfriend." Seifer remarked. He did not sound like he was trying to make a claim; just stating facts.

'You girlfriend, boy?"

"No." Seifer remarked, crossing his arms over his chest. The other leader got a certain glint in his eyes.

"Your boyfriend, then." Thinking he said something clever, he then chuckled while pointing at Seifer. "By the way, nice abs" Seifer's eye just twitched. Fuu started struggling again. "Fuu! Nooooo! We might go to jail this time!" Shouted a distraught Rai.

"Discipline!" The little lady pretty much hissed.

"Think of community service, Fuu. Community service! Remember it?!"

Before anyone could start something, another bartender came up. He looked to be in his earlier thirties, with bright, blue eyes and equally bright, blond hair trimmed short and complete with a full (but neatly trimmed) beard. He wiggled in the middle of the groups, looking quite thin compared to anyone else, except maybe Fuu. Though this may have been to his long and dark-choice of attire instead of what his actual waist-size was. He held his arms high and waved them around. "Awww, come on fellows." Luxord said friendly with a happy grin, "Everyone is Irish today."

The third man, a thinner sort of man himself, was keeping the drunk steady at his side. He let out a dangerous smile and said, "Well, it's hard to imagine that, especially from a little warlock." Vivi shifted his head and his yellow eyes narrowed.

"Now what the damn hell is that suppose to me?" Seifer remarked, now strutting up to the third man.

"Just saying. Not very Irish."

"Well, if you gentleman wish to play that card." Luxord remarked, in his own way trying to be humorous and witty, "I am quite more Irish then any of you men. I'm actually English. Also, making me more pasty then any of you, if we are speaking on a certain following you men may follow. Just a point of observation." Luxord got a few dirty looks. He let out a sigh. "Well I thought it was whitey, er witty." He let out a chuckle. "Now that was witty." The bartender did not even get any pity laughter. "Oh you all bloody suck."

"Listen hear you pricks," Seifer began, being one of the many who ignored Luxord. "You are gonna apologies to Fuu, then you are gonna apologies to my friend, then you are gonna apologies to him down there." Seifer pointed to each of the people he wanted an apology alliterated. "And then if I'm still not happy, you have to apologies to me."

The rather drunk man and the big, ugly friend (who both he and his friend finally got up after Fuu's assault) glared at him and looked ready and willing to take out the blond there and then. But the head-hancho cleared his throat. "Well, you see those gentlemen over there?" He pointed to a large group of a few strange men. Some glared, some simply looked over, some were smirking. "I think some of them…might disagree." The man suddenly called out so everyone could hear. "I don't wanna cause problems, but if you want to start something, you might want to get some friends to help. So, anyone want to help him start problems?" He then leaned closer to Seifer and said lowly, "There is no way in hell I'm apologies to a coon, a cunt, a straw-head, or a faggot."

Through all of these interactions, a familiar trio of friends watched. Olette was appalled; Pence looked a bit frightened, Hayner…

Hayner looked almost angry. Now, of course, Hayner looking angry at Seifer's direction was not uncommon, but something was off about it. As soon as the group leader called for help, Hayner stood up and stomped over to the group. Olette looked with shock while Pence called up, "Hayner!" But the man already left their little booth haven.

Once he was close, Hayner called out, "Hey." A lot of eyes turned to him. "I'm willing to side with him."

Seifer turned and his eyes got rather wide. Rai's jaw dropped and Fuu stopped struggling. Vivi…just looked like Vivi.

"You his friend?" The guy asked.

"Hell no. I hate the bastard." Hayner's statement made Seifer's eyes return back to normal and caused them to roll. "But I don't like the way you're talking."

"Oh? How am I talking?"

"By being an ignorant jackass." Hayner replied. Everyone looked a bit confused by all his statements so far. "There are far many great reason to hate Rai, but being black isn't one. So yah, I stand to back them."

"Oh? You offended?"

"No." Hayner replied, not looking at all. "But I know if someone called my mother that, I think I'd have a problem with it."

"So you're saying…" The big guy looked the boy up and down. He grinned suddenly. "Well, well, well. We got a little mutt here." There were a few cackles.

Pence and Olette appeared beside Hayner. Hayner looked with shock. "What are you guys doing over-here?"

"Well, someone's gotta watch your back." The girl said.

"Yah, and I don't think any of them would do that good of a job." Pence mumbled, indicating more to Seifer's group.

Hayner laughed and gave a bastard of a grin. Seifer did not say anything, but he crossed his arms, "Hell, I take you three. So I'll start something if you start something."

"Oh yah?"

"Yah."

Both groups leaned into one another, just waiting for that final moment. Everyone was waiting for a fight: Nobody move. Frankly, nobody knew if they should do something (Except Luxord, who was clever enough at some point to sneak his pasty butt away and slink over to the opposite side of a pool table to watch at a safe distance).

However, Setzer finally let out a loud whistled. "Now what a minute. This seems to be getting to be a bit of a big problem. I don't want to start something bad. Nor do I want to take sides. But I think I'll point out some observations, if you will." He looked around. "Now, I expect most of you are regulars?" Several nods. "And I am expected that…some other people may not be so regulars." He indicated to the rather new group. "And I have heard that certain groups of people have been moving into local bars to…claim not only the bars but this holiday, as you will." It was hard not to pay attention to Setzer. He was charismatic and had a nice voice. "But that is not the point I'm going to make. My point is that the pool-play lady being held by that big fellow and the little black mage are members of Twilight Town's own Disciplinary Committee. Seifer Almasy here, yes, the fellow in the interesting hat, happens to be its leader."

Several bars looked over at the group in a new light, whether good or bad. "Speaking about Seifer, who knows about Struggle?" About every patron rose a hand up. It was not that much of a surprise: Struggle was this town past time, just like football or the New Years celebration in other cities. Setzer let an award-winning grin spread on his face. "Well, as you may know, I've been a long-time running champion of the matches." A few drunken cheers and claps from some people. "Thank you, thank you." Setzer grinned at one of the ladies at the bar after making wide bows to the crowed. "And thank you especially." He gave a swooning (which did cause a bit of swooning for the lady) wink, then stood back up proud. "Well, Seifer is one of two young gentlemen who has been on par with my skills. He has also been champion every now and then. Then the cameo-wearing boy is Hayner, a near-equal competent Struggle player. His best friend actually is our very own Roxas, the current champion."

It must be understood that Twilight Town was not a small town, but it was a rather quiet and peaceful one. It also must be understood that most people in the town knew about the two boys and their groups. And most people knew about Struggle. Plus, a few people around the bar were quite similar to Hayner in parent background or similar to Seifer in friends. This was important for the next part of Setzer's speech.

"Now, I'm not really a fighting man; I'm a gambling man. But I'm willing to wage whose side most of the people in this bar are going to take, even myself." He chuckled, "Especially when our home-town heroes are threatened."

At this point, quite a many regulars were giving the five men and their group a dirty look. Perhaps not because of viewpoint, but these were their Struggle champions. You just do not mess with the Strugglers in Twilight Town. Never, ever.

The bar got very quiet. Silently, people already picked sides. But nobody was quite ready to take the step and say, yes, it was on.

Finally, the bald-headed head one glared at the two rival gangs. "So this might be a problem, huh?"

"Yah, I think this might be a problem." Seifer said just as bitterly. They stared each other down.

All the while, Hayner was wondering what the hell he exactly got himself into. He hated Seifer. Hell, in the past he mocked the bastard for his clothing choices with almost the same kind of jeering. But, he was here so he was going to have to do something when the time can and-something was poking him in the back. He never turned around. Instead, he slightly moved to the side and slide back, feeling whatever it was side up his side. Hayner placed an arm to his hip discreetly; it was pool stick. He looked back for a moment.

Fuu held her weapon of choice out, heavy end to Hayner, and gave a small nod. Without asking a question, Hayner nodded back and grabbed the end. Just in case.

The really drunk one made the first move. He was going to make a move to either Pence or Olette, since nobody was watching the two. Before he could make a grab for either girl or boy, Hayner slammed the pool-stick over the side of his head.

Hayner was surprise that it broke in half. Everyone kind of looked at shock, then the big, ugly friend charged at his direction. Fuu already moved around Hayner and kicked him in his chin.

It then became a free-for-all, right there, at the pool table.

Olette had not a problem with standing by her friends in their time of need, but an all-out brawl was something she did not sign up for today. She looked in shock as the Twilight Disciplinary Committee, the five skinheads, and Hayner already jumped into a match. She looked around for help. Pence stood next to her, shock written on his face, "Pence, we have to do something!"

Pence snapped out of his daze and opened his eyes in shock, as if the pressure was put on him, "Oh! Umm…" Pence looked around. There was only reaction he could think of:

He cupped his hand around his mouth and shouted loudly, "BAR FIGHT!"

It was as if it was a signal or a bell. The usual patrons at the bar jumped up at the same moment the rest of the new group stood up and stalked over to assist against the twinks. Some people fought for their friends, their beliefs, and the more drunk ones were just having fun.

Olette glared at Pence, "This is how you help?!" But the stocky boy shrugged, and then both ducked down when a pool ball headed straight for their heads. Coincidently, they were both now lying close to Luxord.

"Hey, what are you doing down here?" Pence asked curiously.

"Hiding." Luxord replied.

"Shouldn't you do something?!" Olette asked in disbelief.

"What do you mean, luv?"

"As in…about the fighting." She gestured around with one hand. "You're a bar-tender!"

Luxord seemed to ponder about this, then he nodded. "You are completely and utterly right." He stood up tall and proud and exclaimed with a clap of his hands. "We need some fighting music." And before Olette could scold him, the man strutted to the music box, all the while ignoring the bottles and fist thrown around, pulled out some change, and looked through the songs, as if there was not a big fight going on behind him. He found one he liked, smiled, and pressed the button.

Apparently, to be appropriate for the holiday, he choose something modern, yet Irish as the shamrock.

It was an all-out brawl then.

Seifer was handling the main-man, fist connected with fist or chest or other body-parts. Rai got right into the big, ugly friend as both pushed against each other, using muscle or fat to throw the other one off balance. Fuu danced around the pool tables with the sneaky one, and Hayner ended up with the rather drunk guy. However, the leader got the clever idea to use a chair as a weapon. He used it also as an effective shield. Seifer got knocked back over a stool and coincidently rolled near Hayner. Seifer quickly rolled and kicked over the drunk. "Wuss, keep up your guard.

"I wish I had my bat!" Hayner complained.

"And I wish I could be peeing green." Seifer shouted back. Now the drunk broke a bottle and created a nice sharp-glass of death. Both men started to them. And Hayner and Seifer stared back, in shock and in angry, respectively.

"See? They have us at an advantage! Any sort of weapon would be good!"

Meanwhile, Pence was doing his best to take cover with Olette. Some of those men looked to be able to break her and eat him. They both hid under a table.

Olette got a bit of courage and stuck a foot out to trip someone coming to aid their lead dog. It seemed like a good idea at the time. But when the man fell, he could see the two under.

"Oh boy." Pence said.

The man grabbed at Olette's leg and easily pulled her to him. Pence used his girth to keep her near the floor. Olette just screamed.

Back to Hayner and Seifer, the two had no choice but to back away from their attackers. He then looked back. "Setzer, where are your bats?!"

Setzer, who stood behind the bar and kept cleaning glasses or passing out drinks (in case people wanted to throw it in someone's face), looked at Hayner with confusions. "What bats?"

"Struggle bats," Seifer said, grabbing a pool stick and using it for defense, "you bastard."

"Why would I have Struggle Bats?"

"Because you are just that anal?" Hayner asked annoyed.

"If I had bats," He remarked, pushing another person off the bar who was knocked unconscious, "Why should I give you one?"

"SETZER!"

"They are located behind the area where the booth and the wall meets." Luxord comments, suddenly standing up from behind the bar.

Setzer frowned at him, "Hey."

Luxord poured himself a drink, "Well, you aren't using them." He smirked and took a sip. "Besides, this will be something interesting.

Now, the two boys would have gone to grab the bats, but they were quite preoccupied with not getting a chair broken over their head or having a bottle sliced into them. But during this time, Olette had nearly been pulled away for Pence. But the girl used her free hand to grab a pool ball. She threw it at the offending man's head.

It worked: He let go of her feet to handle the pain right between his eyes. Olette dropped down on the floor with a nice thud. It knocked the wind out of her, but she looked a Pence. "Handle him, I gotta go."

"Handle who?" Pence asked, but only watched as Olette scrambled away. He looked up…and the guy looked down at him.

"Oh boy."

Olette slammed into the side of the booth, looking behind the wood. 'Lo and behold, bats. She took one in each hand and quickly ran back over to the chaos. "Hayner!" She called, "I have the bats!"

Luxord watched the mayhem with amusement. "Now this is what I call an Irish celebration." He lifted his drink to his lips, but it smashed into several pieces when something crashed through it. He looked at it sadly, but poured another drink. "Then again, I have been to a lot more ram-bunches places. Usually in ports." He brought the cup to his lips, but that one broke into pieces as well. Luxord frowned again.

"I prefer my hangers. Bars for airships are a lot less problematic." Setzer comments, still serving out more drinks, carefully moving back when two men crashed against the bar and started pounding fist into one another.

"Oh, but where's the fun in that." Luxord commented more then asked, deciding to get out a bottle of wine instead.

"Because it is much easier to win against drunken pilots instead of drunken pirates." Setzer replied, using the end of his Struggle bat to push the two men on the floor.

Luxord laughed. "Well, can't argue with that." He poured himself a cup of wine, but while the cup stayed in one piece, the wine bottle shattered into fragments, spilling all over, including Setzer's nice, white shirt. The blond gambler looked a little baffled while the white gambler looked put off.

Olette, with some clever ducking and maneuver only possible by a girl with her little frame, called again. "Bats!" She tossed each bat one at a time.

Hayner and Seifer, without really looking, grabbing a bat as it flew to them. Both smirked; now it was even ground. They charged.

Rai was able to knock the big, ugly friend down finally. But then three other (slightly smaller) men jumped on him.

Pence was doing his best to keep himself alive. He threw some balls here and there, but the guy was not falling for Olette's own trick.

"Duck." A voice mumbled. Pence obeyed. Fuu came charging and pushed the guy over, using Pence's body to trip him up. Fuu hopped over Pence to follow the guy down, then started clobbering. Once the man was done for the count, she stood up. Pence blinked and gave a nervous smile. "Um, thanks."

Surprisingly, Fuu gave him a little smirk back and a little wiggle of her eyebrows. "Yes." Suddenly, Rai called out and Fuu glared her red eyes at his direction. She jumped on the back of the man on Rai's back and all five toppled on the ground, in a flurry of fish and feet.

To the bar, Setzer and Luxord had to duck, claiming it as their own private barricade as random objects set on the tables came back to them.

"No offense, mate, but it might not have been the cleverest thing to throw that bottle at that young man with a scar." Luxord comment.

"Forget that." Setzer mumbled, "They messed up my shirt. They deserve to pay."

"Well, I understand dressing nice for an occupation, but…it _is_ rather bad luck to ware a white shirt when people dye the beer." Luxord commented.

"Hey, I am not going to ruin my jacket over some drunken children." He looked at his poor shirt. Fortunately, the main part of the shirt was undamaged due to the apron. Unfortunately, the ruffles and the sleeves were splashed a lovely color of red. "Though I now miss my devices."

"Devices?"

Seltzer paused, then waved his hand around, rolling through various words mentally before he chose one he liked. "My weapons of choice." He seemly brushed his fingers over his chest. In the next instant, five cards appeared in his hands. "Well, besides the bats, but that is only for those competitions employments," He pulled up his Struggle with his other hand, "Not really my choice of action."

"Oh, your tricks." Luxord raised his hand opposite from one another, brushed them against each other for a moment as if cleaning them, and in the raised hand was a four cards with the lower hand with a card ready to toss.

"Hmmm…" Setzer nodded to himself. "I usually have a variety of darts, knives, and even a few dice." He rolled his eyes up. "Never thought I would need I for a place let this, though."

"A bar?"

"A bar in Twilight Town. I like this place because it's rather calm." He had an almost reminisce smile.

"I come here because bets aren't monitored as much." Luxord commented.

"Oh, undoubtedly." But Setzer crossed his arm over his chest. "Though never again do I decide it would be cheapest to repay the cut by working for free labor at a bar on Saint Patrick's Day."

"You to?"

On the floor, it seemed the fighting was rolling down. At least, all the fighting near the pool tables were having decided winners and losers. Hayner and Seifer doubled teamed and knocked both of their opponents down, then started to wale on them. They were not too worry about killing them; Struggle bats were designed to cause blunt damage, but it was quiet hard to actually kill someone with one, even with a good enough swing. From their spots, Rai and Fuu sat on their body count. They were looking through any pockets for anything that could be used later to cause harm or for simple blackmail material.

Vivi, for his part, had been watching the door. He served much better as a lookout. He was not quiet the fighter as the rest of the Disciplinary Committee, but he was tiny. Plus, it was a bar and he remembered last time they all got into a scuff inside a bar; Vivi did more damage then help. Of course, the damage got praise among his peers, even if they all had to pitch in for the damage.

So Vivi sneaked away and stood near the door, looking out of the window just in case the cop decided to crash the place. He looked and kept looking. And then he saw them.

His yellow eyes grew wide. He pulled his hat and looked around for someone to help. He spotted Olette and made a mad dash for her.

Olette herself had been busy dodging attacks. Roxas, Pence, and Hayner already showed her at one point or another how to defend herself if she was ever attack. She could also handle her own so long as the numbers were even. But by now, it was rather hard to say who was on whose side and she was not going to get in the middle of something she could not control. So she backed herself against the booth and the wall where the bats had been, just in case she needed to duck in there. She was thin enough to hide in there if she needed to and she doubted any men who could threaten her could fit. Olette was looking for bigger threats, not really notching Vivi approach. But the little mage started pulling on her shirt and she looked down.

Now, as Vivi was an officially member of the Twilight Town Disciplinary Committee, Olette was discourage to be around him. But, Vivi was also a cute, little boy. And Olette was only a girl; it was rather hard to resist. So Olette looked down and looked curiously at the little boy and asked with a smile, "What's the matter?"

Vivi made no verbal replay. Instead, he jumped up and down, still pulling on her shirt.

Olette shook her head and questioned again, "Is there something wrong?"

Vivi jumped up and down still, but used his free hand to point to the door. Olette looked over, frowned, but followed him when he started to pull her in the direction. Once they were by the door, she looked out the window and her mouth dropped. "Um…Pence, Hayner."

Hayner felt satisfaction and hearing the bat connect with a final, solid thud. The ass of a drunk fell to the ground. Seifer brought the base of his bat to give a final knock out to the supposed head hancho. Pence had been trying to stop any continuing fighting, but usually ended up flat on his bottom.

(Luck for him, his bottom was very cushiony)

But due to years of being her friend, both boys instantly heard the calling of their names from Olette. They turned and asked, "What?"

"Um…you guys aren't going to like this."

"What do you mean?" Hayner asked a little worried.

Vivi and Olette looked at him.

"They invited friend." Vivi replied.

"What do you mean they invited their friends?" Seifer asked. Him, Hayner, and Pence approached the door and looked outside. And they stared.

"Oh no." Pence said

"…so as it is, I've always preferred my cards myself." Luxord said, flipping through his deck.

Setzer opened his mouth to comment or reply or share a story, but watched with curiosity as Olette and Vivi started to carry barstool away. Both bartenders look confused.

"What in the bloody hell are they doing?" Luxord stared with an open mouth.

"Hey, why are you two moving furniture?" Setzer asked.

Olette paused in her step, looked at the two men, and said, "There are over twenty men trying to break in to beat the crap out of us. So…we want to make sure they don't come in."

"Oh." Setzer nodded, then Setzer and Luxord stare at each other in shock.

"You know, I think I remember the owner saying something was wrong with the backdoor…"

Then there was a loud crash and a new set of men were piling in from behind.

The currently (able) people in the bar looked at them. The new men looked at the people in the bar. And this may have gone on for a bit.

But then someone screams in joy and it signaled for another round. The fight started again.

Among the Chaos, a ring-tone went off behind the counter. Luxord stopped his staring and picked up his cell phone. "Hello? Oh, hello…Yes…Oh, I'm not busy…Yes, I have time toe speak to you." Luxord walked a little too the back, leaning against the wall.

Setzer may not have had a problem with it, but then some roughening looked at the bar. At the booze. And Luxord's side was to the group, "Oh…Luxord?" Setzer asked, hoisting his bat in one hand and his cards in the other.

"Oh, hold on a moment." Luxord called out loudly, not looking, and went back to mumbling on the phone, "Well, no, I can't leave…I know I said I wasn't busy, but…I'm working right now…eh, got into some problems and with it being the holidays and all."

"Luxord!" Setzer oh so bravely used his bat to whack anyone getting near his barricade.

"I'm sorry, can you repeat that?" Luxord asked, covering the ear that was facing Setzer's direction, "Well, it is Saint Patrick's day…You know, green bear and shamrocks…I'm at a bar and we are having a bit of a problem here."

A loud crash rang from somewhere, as if something just broke through a table.

"…I have no idea what that was, but I can certainly say that it isn't anywhere near me…okay…okay…ah, see, before we continue, I'll say right now I am not playing a guessing game…I don't have time for it. I'm in the middle of a bar-fight."

"You damn brit, help me up here because I swear if my legs get broken because of this mess, you legs will also!"

Luxord ignored Setzer and used the hand to cover his ear. "No, I said I'm in a "bar fight," not in a "bar fly." Big difference…Well if I was in a bar fly, I would be in the process of getting lucky and would not have answered my phone…Yes, even for you."

Olette had been managing against a smaller man, but then he tossed her over the bar. Luxord watched the interaction and soon as the man got close, he clocked him with a fist, still mumbling into the phone. He was a gentleman, after all. Olette crawled back up, and then sat on the counter. The guy was getting up. Olette looked around for a weapon, then turned back to Luxord. "Give me your cheapest booze that comes in a glass bottle."

"Sur, luv." Luxord knelt down. He pulled out some home-brewed particular and handled it to the girl. "Here you go."

"Thank you." She then crashed it over a head, sending the guy down for the final count. Luxord reminded himself to remember to write down the product. "You got any more?"

"Plenty."

"Good." Olette said, then shouted. "Pence, I have an idea! Move them over this way!"

Luxord leaned backward on the counter, just in case his services were need. He was still on the phone: "Now that wasn't a bar fly….I don't know, some town girl…No, I don't know if she puts out. She's too young to you, anyways." Luxord quickly gave Olette a once over, "And too clean looking for you, anyways…no I'm not saying you have poor judgment. I'm saying the women you are attracted do should be first prodded with a pole to see if it falls to pieces."

Suddenly, the blond man was grabbed by his collar and was glared at someone with silver eyebrows. "Bring your ass over here now."

Luxord smiled nervous, "I'll…call you back." He closed the phone as Setzer gave him an angry smile. Now, it looked as if Setzer was about read to crush the other man's head with his eyeballs, but then two fellows finally got over the counter. Both bartenders looked at each other with a raised eyebrow, then looked at each other, then looked at the men.

Then they grinned.

Setzer let go and cracked his knuckles while Luxord started to play with his deck of cards, seemly shuffling them in mid-air.

"This is going to be a loss…" Setzer started.

"…For you, chums." Luxord finished.

And then the cards flew

---

It was about an hour later. Outside of the bar was quietly. In fact, it looked prestige. But inside…

Inside was another story all together.

There were various piles of bodies stacked in one corner and many people huddled together in half-drunk or half-beaten. Several tables were broken, many more chair were reduced to kindling, there were glass shards shattered around, and green and red coloring making everything almost Christmassy.

However, the walls were still standing, most of the light fixtures were still in their proper sockets, and the bar, the kitchen, and its contents were still safe. Though there was still a pile in the corner, most of the unwanted people had run out (or thrown out in most cases). There were still people drinking, still people coming in and out, and still people wanting that green beer.

In particular, about seven people monopolized the bar. Even though it was two difference groups, they had more or less spaced themselves in a mix. And, despite the past, the groups were laughing together, more or less.

In the middle sat Hayner and Seifer, sharing a round of shots. "Now thiiiis is how youoooo celebrate Patty's Day." Hayner declared. It got many cheers from around the table.

Olette, still the soberest member, looked down at Seifer and Rai on the other side of Hayner. "I thought it was cute when you came to Fuu defense. It's nice to see that protectiveness!"

Seifer took a sip, then looked at Olette. "You now that Fuu isn't my girlfriend, yah?"

"Bet that's not by your choice." Hayner mumbled, then he laughed, "Or is it?"

Before Seifer could prove a rebuttal, Rai leaned against the bar to look at the boy and girl. "Fuu only likes men she can top. She's a bit demanding, y'know?"

"Well, that explains…that." Olette commented and pulled on Hayner's shirt and pointed down a few seats from her.

A rather touchy (and drunky) Fuu appeared to be fawned over a rather beat-up looking Pence. The fellow sported a black eye, classing with the blush that stained his cheeks, "Actually, Olette bashed most of them over the head. I just…kinda assisted her."

Fuu simply let a small, little smile appear under her bangs. She gave a confirmation noise, but kept dabbling the size of his face with a cool cloth.

Hayner chuckled, then gave a grin to Olette, wrapping his arm around her. "So, we gooooonna see you be in the Struggle match with that aaaaarm of'ours?"

Olette giggled, and pushed him off a little, "Don't make me use it on you. I can knock out five guys in under five minutes. Try beating that."

Hayner waved his hands a little, "Oh, I better watch it."

"Alright, I have to make a stalemate." Seifer commented, not quite drunk as a skunk, but he felt the buzz and his words were not quite correct. He pointed straight at Hayner, "I wouldn't dis'like you because you are _mulatto_. I dis'like you because you are an uppity punk and your friends are all storks."

Hayner blinked, a little more then buzzed now, but fully aware of his surrounded. He set a hand on the table and pointed a finger up, as it taking an oath and took a deep breath, "Aaaaalirhgt." He thought for a moment, and then said, "Weeeeell, I un't dislike aaany of your friends for anything like that, either. Nor for the beanie. The beanie plays. However, your mid-driff has been, is now, and forever shall be fodder for aaaaanyyyythiiiing. Even if some people like it or find it braved…you are a duuuuuude and that should explain it. Oooooor, not explain it. One of dose."

Both boys stared each other down for a moment. Then they both grinned and raised their small glasses.

"Hmmmm…I'll drink to that." Seifer swore.

"Cheers." Hayner replied. The clanked the glasses together and gulped their drink down.

"Hey Vivi, you and me play a round after this round, yah?" Rai said.

The little mage nodded happily.

And there was much merry-met.

---

Later that night after last call and right outside the bar, two men stood, both in dark jackets, though the white-haired man's was much bigger and looked to be for show while the blond man had something more like a form-fitting rain-coat.

"They have insurance on these places for event like this, right?" Asked the paler of the two.

"Oh undoubtedly," Replied a voice with an English accent

"None of this was our fault, really."

"True enough."

"And we saved all of the beverages."

"Except for the cheap stuff."

"Well, except those, but technically, we still stayed in the black."

"That is what the math tells us."

"We are still going to have to leave town, hmm?"

"Unfortunately."

"So, lock up, grab fake passports and run in opposite directions?"

"Good plan."

* * *

Some comments before this story ends.

The idea of Hayner being part black makes sense to me; he has very dark eyes and his hair is wavy in a particular style. And do not say that biracial children cannot have blond hair; it is possible.

On an unrelated note, I do not like Setzer in Kingdom Hearts II. He looks liked an Ansem-reject instead of the scarred up, gabling Albino with the large, dirty over-coat I know and love. So yes, please image him as how he looks in Final Fantasy VI, minus the big coat and just in a nice dress shirt and dress pants (with NO midsection exposed). Oh, and the apron, too.

My suggestion is play something from Floggy Molly, especially when Luxord puts on the music. It will make the story better. Sorry if it came off just a little preachy.

Have a Happy April fools!


	2. Cornbeef and Cabbage

Damn, I've been so busy, plus without an internet access and working at random times. Oh well. It is giving me some time to work on some other projects. And play a lot of video games! Well, I'm almost a month late, but at least its' not a month!

For those of you surprised to see this story back up: I never said this was going to be a one-shot story! It's not! The plan was to write another chapter for every Saint Patrick's Day and showing what some characters might be doing. This is all supposed to happen on the same day or night to possibly the next day. Also, you might see a few stories that connect. Maybe I'll get brave enough and throw some Disney Characters in the mix!

As for this year, it's my favorite character, Naminé! I don't get to write her enough, so I like any chance I have to give her a spotlight. As much as I love her, she is quite a shy thing and doesn't like to be wffritten about much. And her chapter is going to be small…for now. But I'll have her appear earlier or later, depending on how many drunks I decide to write. After all, this story has become sort of my Birthday Gift to myself, and I just let the words flow!

Disclaimer: Still don't own Kingdom Hearts and still am not earning any money from any of this.

* * *

Naminé slipped back into her loft, quickly running to the kitchen area to check on her meat. She had set the burner on low simmer when she left, but any number of accidents could have happened while she was away. Before she entered the small eating area, she dropped her purse down on a chair while sliding off her coat. It made a home on the couch.

The unique smell of corn beef and cabbage boiling filled her nose as she walked closer to the stove. Naminé slipped on an oven mitt and lifted up the lid. She sniffed the food, just to be sure, and was happy to smell and see the progress of the food. It smelled wonderful and looked the appropriate colors; the beef was a beautiful reddish shade, the marble of the fat was a slight orange color that complemented the actual muscle very well; the cabbage took a clear color, and the added pieces of potatoes and carrots made it seem as the completed meal it should be. To be sure, Naminé grabbed the large, prong fork stuck in the knife block and poked the meat. It was all but done. She turned the dial up just a few heats higher, deciding to let it cook slowly for the next fifteen minutes. If she wanted to, she could serve the meal as it was and it would be enjoyable. However, the meat was yet to practically fall apart from itself, so it needed a bit more time to tenderize. She set the fork to the side and covered the pot again. With everything checked, she headed back to the living room and started to straiten up the small mess she produced.

Today was Saint Patrick Day, and Naminé was looking forward to a quiet night to herself. It was not a national holiday nor was it a religious celebration quite much anymore so; she did not feel obligated going anywhere tonight. She was a shy girl and not a heavy drinker meaning nothing in the holiday attracted her attention. Actually, she hardly touched a drop of anything with alcohol in it except the occasional toast for (more important) celebrations. The most she ever consumed was half a bottle of some sort of fruity cooler on her twenty-first birthday.

Once she had sorted everything out in the room, Naminé turn to see her landline phone and was surprise to see the message box blinking. She clicked a button and was surprised to hear nine messages were stored. Naminé had a cell phone, but she only used it for emergencies or incoming call. As it was, she lost the code she needed to get into the voice mail. She simply told everyone to either call Roxas or leave a message at home if they could not get a hold of her. Then again, it already nine o'clock at night and she just noticed she forgot to charge her cell phone…again. She hoped nobody needed her.

The first message played while she plugged in her cell phone to the charger, "Hello, this is an automatic voice mail to remind the residence that the fifteen of the month has passed. The final noticed will go out on twentieth. If you have not paid yet, please contact the head office if there is a problem. Thank you and good-night." Naminé chuckled at the message. Not because she was worried about her rent or anything to do with the actual message. It was simply the fact that it was her own voice playing over the machine.

Naminé's home was in a small apartment building given the name of C. Oblivion. It was not a too expensive place, but whoever designed it certainly like monotone. The original walls were black, white, or shades of gray instead of the standard off-colored beige. Any designs were either something simply as lines carved into the lower panel molding or lights with glass work with complicated curves and points sticking in lovely ways. It seemed very fashionable for the price, but there was the little fact that its foundation laid over ten miles away from anywhere noticeable and each loft held the size of half of a trailer. The history she was told was the property had been own by someone who wanted to create a new set of condominiums from some old farm property. However, the house market bubble burst and the dream went down the toilet.

On the plus side, it was a buyer's (or renter's) market and Naminé was able to get her little piece of heaven on a lease dirt-cheap. She also had a connection to the now manager of the property and was able to get the place. And the best part; it was rent controlled. There were two floors with four rentable rooms on each floor. Currently there were five renters in the household. On the top floor with Naminé were two other residences while the bottom floor held two dorms shared by two people each. There was the downside to the lovely home; the connection to rent the home was through employment and Naminé had to share it with her co-workers, including being neighbors with some of her direct supervisor's supervisor. The price was worth it, but still made for uncomfortable interactions.

But tonight everyone was out. Or if they were around, they would not need Naminé for anything important. Naminé was an artist, but only true masters succeeded in committing to it full time. And even they eventually found other outlets. Naminé's steady hands came useful for straight lines as well as natural lines. Her official job was drafting work. However, her job was not merely draft. The scope of her work went beyond that. She did not simply draw a bunch of maps or picked pretty paints for a new living room. She did those tasks. She also put grout down on a kitchen floor for acrylic tiles, lined drafty windows with a calking gun, or grabbed a sledgehammer to bash a wall down to open a new doorway. Her work was mostly for the local historical societies who wanted a professional designer without the professional price. She also worked for some friends of friends if they really needed help with non-profit deals. She had an additional "night job," but after learning that out of a dozen other people she worked at her night job with, including several who had several years of schooling, she was the only one who actually replaced a pipe in the past, her night job was a super for the buildings in the area. Meaning she was also the one to remind everyone of their own personal responsibilities to the building, including rent.

The second message popped up once she straightened up for the night, "…click." Naminé paused for a moment, wondering if it cut off. Unfortunately, Naminé did not have a caller idea with either the phone or the answering machine, so whoever made the second message was lost to her. Probably a wrong number. Nevertheless, she made sure to listen carefully for the next couple of messages; just to be sure it had nothing to do with anything happening for the celebration on Wednesday.

There would be a small feast tomorrow, which would include her brother and various cousins and friends to visit at the center of town. The community had an Irish history and those roots still clung strong. Naminé decided to paint green streaks in her hair for her own little taste of shamrocks. She was going to help arrange flowers and the tables earlier as well as bring in a dish.

Another celebration would be held later in the day at the larger building down the block from her house. Of course, block was a relative term. The house stood a five mile from her residence. Those invited were her co-workers. Tonight, they were either at their own respectable homes or, which included a large chunk of the people she lived around, were out doing badness knows what.

She had already made a helping of corn beef and cabbage that chilled in her fridge until it would be needed. Naminé was going to store the next batch she just made. She finally turned of the burner and merely let it cook the rest of the way in the slowly cooling water.

The third messaged played out as Naminé pour herself something to drink. "Hey Naminé, this is Olette. I know you told all of us that you wanted a quiet night in, but I don't want you to feel like we are abandoning you. Just to remind you that if you still wanna take that offer, we'll be at the Irish Nacho tonight. Give Roxas a pinch for me when you see him! He's probably not wearing anything green." Naminé smiled around her cup.

Pence, Olette, and Hayner were friends of hers, but probably more so her brother's group then anything. They always invited her along and…Naminé felt guilty not to accept the requests most of the time. Of course, she did not feel like going to a bar to drink possibly over-colored beer with a bunch of other rowdy drunks, even with Hayner and Pence around. She did not do well with crowds, especially more loose ones.

She dropped her cup in the sink and washed her hands. They were not dirty, but she was going to move around the food she prepared for herself and other people she cared about, so she wanted to make sure her hands were spotless. Naminé would probably need to wash her hands after storing the meal. She planned to relax and do some private work tonight.

The fourth message played out while Naminé dried her hands, "This is your Superior speaking. I am going to remind each and every one of you that if any of you call in sick tomorrow, it will not be tolerated. I do not care for your tomfoolery for Saturday night; it is none of my concern. Again, for those of you who are schedule for Wednesday, you will show up for work. Unless you have received a call tonight and are working tonight to the morning or are other relieved of your task, then Wednesday you are excused. BUT NONE OTHER. Thank you, and have a pleasant and safe evening." Naminé had to sigh and roll her eyes up.

Technically, Xemnas was not her boss. He just happened to be her boss's boss. In fact, he was the head of the company of her 'night job' as well as the purchaser of her home. Legally, Naminé supposed the shareholders owned it, but she handled building permits of the land, not the buying power the property. Then again, she often wondered the legalities of the association, but some things were better left unexplored.

Naminé went back to the stove to start packing the meal away. She was a little hungry, so she decided to grab an orange, knowing she would probably have to wash her hands again. But biting the juicy piece of fruit made her slight hunger vanish and made her mood brighten. What to do for tonight? She had a nice, new charcoal set, but she recently got some clay at half price and though she was not an expert of 3-D model making, Naminé was eager to learn a new medium and get her hands a little dirty.

The firth message played out as she ate her orange, "So, Naminé. Hi. Um…yah, Sora was supposed to call you, but he apparently didn't. And I know, um, Kairi mentioned it to you, but in case you want to…you can come down to the island. We already have a bon-fire up. So…yah. Bye." She recognized the voice as Riku and grinned slightly around the orange.

Naminé thought about calling back, but figured that they were already in the swing of things. If she called Kairi, then the girl would spend the whole time trying to convince her to come. Naminé knew that she was a pushover and Kairi was much a pusher. Not in a bad way; on a normal day, such a push might be appreciated for Naminé's reclusive nature. However, tonight was a night of promised leisure to herself and she would not tempt anyone to change that. If she called Sora, the phone conversation would never end. She adored Sora as much as Sora adored her. He was happy and peppy and they both had similar views on many subjects of the world. But while Naminé was reserved, Sora was gregarious. Naminé loved he would go out and make a five new friends in five minutes, but problems came when he tried to introduce them to her. Sora was also a known phone hog, so she would not get him started. If she called Riku, well, that would be in quite an opposite manner of Sora or Kairi. Riku hated talking on the phone. There were long and awkward paused that would result since Riku was not one for small talk. Yet, every time a person tried to end a conversation, Riku would bring up something that would lead to a few seconds of chatter, and then…more silence.

Naminé put her snack down, went over to pull the pot out of the crock-pot heater, and moved it in the fridge. It was already covered and since she was not going to cook anything else in device for tomorrow, she left as is.

When she closed the icebox door, the sixth message play out, "Hiiiii Naminé, thish is Axel. So, um, I'm just callin' you to let yah know we won't be, like, dropping over anything. But dooon't worry, we're gonna, um…walk or something. Or get a cab osometin…uuuuuuuumm, yah, so don't worry. But, um…damn, I was gonna say something else 'cause Roxas told me to tell you but he's gone and uuuuh…I'll jusch callu back. Kay? Kay. Alrigh'night." Naminé looked at the machine with concern for a moment before letting out a sigh. Oh, she had a bad feeling in stomach.

Naminé did not have a clue on what her brother or his boyfriend were doing or where they were. She remembered Roxas seeming to be anxious about the evening and mention something about chemistry. Naminé loved and adored Roxas. After all, they were twins and started life together: There was no closer bond they had besides with each other. She also loved Axel. She became friends with Axel soon after Roxas did but before they went beyond friendship. He was outgoing, but did not get annoyed with her more reserved nature because of it. She gave them encouragement when they announced their relationship to her and was happy that they could be together in such a way. Naminé moved out on her own first, but Roxas would always come over and usually crash with her for a couple days to a couple weeks. Naminé never minded. In fact, she enjoyed having his company. They would joke openly or teased each other. She liked acting like the dotting sister who took care of her brother without being told that Roxas had legs and could get his own stuff, just like Roxas liked doing those macho things like fixing the fridge even if he did not know a Phillip's from a slotted without being judged as less of a man. Then she moved to her current place and Axel because a guest as well. In fact, Axel stayed with her without much of an invite, and sometimes without Roxas. She did not mind that, either. Naminé liked Axel being around; even though her friend had nearly burnt her kitchen down once and did not exactly know that it's not polite to put the dirty dishes back in the cabinet, he tried to be helpful and if she felt even a little down, he made it his personal goal to get his dubbed "in-law" a smile on her face. It also made her feel safe stayed around, especially after the robbery at one of the other buildings (the next day after the crime was report, Axel came over with a baseball bat, various movies, and a pizza. She still had the baseball bat). In addition, with the both of them there…the little apartment felt like a warm home. Naminé looked around the room and frowned. The only moments it was…annoying to have both of them present was when they forgot that while she was open to sharing…she did not appreciate when she found them around her apartment…enjoying each other's company too much. Just because they lived in the small home part-time did not mean they could use the kitchen counter in any way they wanted to. Unless they were trying to make a surprise dish, but nothing else!

Naminé was turning off the kitchen light when the seventh message started with an empty pause and a slight bit of static, "………… oh really now? Oh, okay. Um, yah, never mind, um, we won't be needed your assistance. Sorry for the disturbance! Bye!" Though the caller did not leave a name, she knew the upbeat voice to be Demyx.

Naminé knew something was going on tonight. And the message probably had something to do with it. And she was pretty sure Roxas was involved. And she did not want to think about it. Instead, she shook her head and though up what she wanted to do. Charcoal it was. Looking at the dark medium against the white paper would prove a perfect monotone distraction over any bad scenarios playing over her head. Naminé grabbed a smock or apron hanging up in a convenient place in case she did participate in messier mediums. She would be drawing tonight instead of thinking about her family, friends, and co-workers (even the ones she really disliked) doing anything dangerous and probably half-drunk while doing so.

The eight message played while she nervously tied the apron, "Hey Nams, this is just a reminder to you to totally remember your dish! We so appreciate that you can come and, like, hang around on your off time with us. And even though you and I don't know each other really that well and I'm actually going down a list and calling everything who is coming, I am just making sure you feel appreciated-What? What do you mean I don't sound sincere! I sound perfectly sincere, Leon! You are the one who can't talk to anyone correct. And do you notice I'm on the PHONE! It's rude! I don't care if I'm leaving a message or not, just shut up you ungrateful-" the rest of the words end by a cut of the machine. Naminé knew the peppy voice was one of the charity leaders she often volunteered for in building projects.

The group was the ones hosting the celebrations at the center of the town tomorrow. They were actually associates and friends of Sora and Kairi, but with the redhead and brunette pushing all their friends onto others, Naminé helped out at least once a week. They promoted a good cause and…Naminé liked to help and if bring a dish of corn beef was the way she could help, then she would bring that dish. Naminé smiled and thought of a monotone castle that would look perfect in monotone.

The ninth message played just after Naminé turned on the light in her private little studio, sat down, and picked up the metal case which held her strips of charcoal, "Hey Naminé…this is Roxas…um…yah. Me and Axel…we kind of in jail and we need you to bail us out. So, when you can…come get us…please? Though, if you don't…we probably deserve a night in the slammer. Or at least Axel. It's his fault. Oh, and try to keep this under wraps. " And by the time the message ended, Naminé already set down the box, walked out of the room after she shut off the light, walked over to her coat, grabbed her keys, and headed out the door.

If she was anything, she was dependable.

* * *

It was much shorter then the other ones, but I plan for Naminé' to be in other people's stories while other groups will

If you have notice in most of my AU stories, I write Roxas and Naminé as brother and sister. I love sibling relationships and they aren't done enough in fan fiction in general. It's all about romance, romance, romance! From my experience, your family relationships is much more important then a beau or belle. In fact, they can influence the type of mate you choose. Though for you RoxasxNaminé supports, I'm not saying I'm against it; I believe they are truly soul mates or soul twins. They complete each other. But, I interpreted a different way; I consider them twins because they come from Sora and Kairi (With Sora as the technical mother *giggled*) and "born" in the same place at the same time. And with Birth by Sleep pictures out, we see that Nobodies do age, but they keep close to the same hair color. Naminé has to get her blonde hair from somewhere!

If you are wondering why it a Tuesday for the 17, that is what it was last year. Basically, 2009 Saint Patrick's Day.

And yah see what I did their with the apartment building. I'm a clever person, ain't I?


End file.
